Protecting Herself
by missthropphasapieshop
Summary: Andrada did more than grope Elizabeth, and diplomacy doesn't happen in a vacuum. 3x15 AU
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hey everyone! I haven't written anything in a really long time, and I've never written for Madam Secretary before, so I would welcome any feedback, constructive criticism, etc.

I do want to warn you from the get go, I have a terrible track record with actually finishing fics that I start (which is why I've almost exclusively written one shots previously), and I wrote most of this chapter not all that long after the episode aired and it's been on the backburner since then. However, I really am determined to get through this fic. On that note, if anyone would be interested in throwing ideas around with me and talking through the fic as I write it, that would be really fantastic and please let me know!

* * *

**Protecting Herself**

"How do you feel about drones?"

President Andrada chuckled. "I like what I am hearing," he said, moving off the desk. "Do you have any idea how sexy it is," he took a step forward, a thoroughly unsettling glint in his eye, "to hear a woman talking about drones?" There was a predatory smile on his face.

Elizabeth leaned backward in order to regain a modicum of personal space and let out a burst of laughter to cover her discomfort, raising her hands protectively in front of her. The President joined her laughing, his sound piercing and unpleasant.

"Well I think that if we can generally agree on the kind and amount of military reinforcements that you're interested in," she recovered, stepping backwards away from the man and turning towards her coat, "then I think we can probably resume these –"

Elizabeth abruptly halted as she felt arms slip around her from behind, one travelling from her right side to squeeze at her left breast, the other pawing at her crotch, and the man's front flush against her back. She tasted bile in the back of her throat at the sensation of his arousal, nestled against her backside.

She reacted with an elbow to his head out of pure reflex, striking the President just above his ear and throwing him backwards, off-balance. His grip on her did not let up though, and they both went crashing to the floor. The back of Elizabeth's head hit the corner of a chair on the way down, momentarily disorienting her, and Andrada took the opportunity to roll on top of her and pin her wrists against the floor with his forearm.

"Mr President, you don't want to do this." Elizabeth hoped the use of his title would drive home the extent of the implications of his actions, given their positions. "We can just get up and walk away now like nothing happened."

"And why is that?" His tone was just as level and even and cold as it had been earlier, and she hated him for it. "I am a smart man, Elizabeth, and I am a strong man. I know that you need the support of the Philippines for your little Singapore agreement no matter what happens today. Here I am only offering you a way of getting that support."

Elizabeth was incredulous. "If this is an offer then I reject your proposal, you need to reconsider what you are doing." Her voice denoted the urgency she felt, and hardly registered the panic that was welling up in her chest.

"That is fair. But you Americans took what you wanted from the Philippines for years when you bought us, I think it's time the Philippines got to take something from America." He moved his free hand to tease at her breast.

"Andrada, you need to stop." _You're not taking from America; you're taking from me._ When he paid her words no mind, she continued, "You can't possibly want to do this, you know it's going to hurt the relationship between our two countries." _Please god let him listen to reason._

Andrada smiled menacingly. "Only if you choose that."

Elizabeth was getting frantic, squirming trying to get out from under him, and pulling at her arms to free them. She was an athletic woman and had undertaken some basic combat training in her time at the CIA, but he was deceptively heavy for such a small man, and very determined. She felt a momentary relief when he removed his hand from her chest, which was only to be replaced by a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach when the hand was placed just above her knee, and slid slowly and deliberately up her thigh. She tried kicking her legs to throw him off, but his knees pinned them down.

"You don't need to do this, we know how strong you are." One last attempt at reasoning, which sounded pitiful even to herself. "Please don't." Her voice cracked, and she picked up a trace of a smirk cross the President's face in response. He stroked at the outside of her underwear and she felt thickness in her throat. That was probably the only reason the contents of her stomach didn't spill themselves onto the floor next to her.

"On the contrary, Elizabeth. I think I need to show you." Andrada's hand dove into her underwear and he took a moment to rub along her entrance without the barrier of clothing, before invading her with his index finger. She hissed in discomfit, her torso thrashing in attempt of escape, a litany of pleas streaming from her mouth. When he pushed more fingers into her, she bit back a cry of pain, not willing to give him the satisfaction as the sensation of his untrimmed fingernails seemed to claw at her from the inside out, ripping to shreds skin and dignity and security in a single dizzying blow. When his lips met her neck, she couldn't decide what was worse, the insult that he would kiss her too, or his eyes as they had been, boring down into her to take in her every humiliating reaction to his touch. His mouth reached the soft bit of skin that connected her neck and her jaw, and he bit down hard. She whimpered in pain, which he purposefully mistook for arousal, growling, "Typical American woman, nothing but a whore."

With her heightened pain and mental distress, Elizabeth had apparently stilled, and Andrada used the opportunity to remove his arm from her wrists, presumably to remove her underwear completely given its direction of travel. Elizabeth wasted no time though, and used her now free hands to punch him square in the nose with all the force she could muster. He let out a cry of pain, and his hands retreated to his face, where he attempted to stem the flow of blood leaking freely from his nose. Her newfound mobility allowed her to push him off her completely, and she frantically moved back from him, forcing herself to stand when she was well and truly out of his reach. Her legs were unsteady and she felt like her whole body was quivering. She pressed her hand against her forehead and took a few deep, shaky breaths.

_What just happened? _Was the room spinning, or was it just her?

When Elizabeth felt she had composed herself enough, she straightened out her dress and left the room, not sparing another glance for the man on the floor. If she did, her confident, business-as-usual front would have shattered.

* * *

The Singapore Interchange. They needed the Philippines on board. She broke President Andrada's nose. Oh god. The gravity of what happened didn't sink in until Elizabeth was conferencing with the President and Russell, and had given them a brief (and thoroughly redacted) rundown of the situation.

"I have to say, breaking the President's nose is a whole new form of diplomacy." The President didn't sound mad, so that was something. Even though she thought he probably should be.

"So is groping the Secretary of State, in my experience." They didn't need to know. That was plenty. She'd had to give them enough to explain the situation, not to mention the Filipino president's face, but the details were best kept private. If she had to look them in the face, knowing they knew, if they had to look at her… No. That was quite unnecessary.

"But you're okay?"

She sighed, her whole body seeming to droop. "Yeah." _No._ Realising her shift in position, her hand self-consciously went to her neck where he had left a mark when he bit her. After ensuring her hair was still covering the offending bruising, she returned to playing with her necklace. Hopefully they wouldn't question the fact that she was not usually one to fidget.

Russell chimed in with a smile, "I know this doesn't bode well for the Singapore Interchange, but then again, Sugar Ray McCord has put the world on notice about how we deal with bullies."

"That's not funny Russell." If he only knew.

"I'm not kidding, it's badass." _Badass. Yeah right._ There was a touch of admiration in his voice as he said it, but that seemed misplaced given what really happened. It was admiration for getting out of there, for stopping it. She didn't stop it. Although, Elizabeth supposed, it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. So why did she feel so terrible?

"The man is even more unhinged than we thought. How are we supposed to proceed from here?" Conrad redirected the conversation to the game plan, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Plans. Diplomacy. Those were things she could deal with.

"Excuse me Mr President," a woman off the monitor intercepted, "General Reeves."

She saw the President look up at the General. "Mr President we're just getting word that President Andrada has officially ordered all American military out of the Philippines. He's claiming he will rip up our enhanced defence cooperation agreement." Guilt flared up in Elizabeth's chest.

"Fantastic. Thank you General." The President sounded resigned.

"Sir." This apparently marked the General's exit, because Conrad's eyes returned to the screen, dismay etched across his features.

"Sir, I am so sorry."

"Bess, I don't want to hear you apologise for protecting yourself." Conrad's voice was kind, but stern. "We don't know what would have happened if you didn't." On the contrary, Elizabeth thought, we know exactly what would have happened.

Sidestepping that issue, she said, "So, let's take a breath. Kicking the US military out of a country doesn't happen in an afternoon. We might not like it, but I think if I apologise to Andrada, suggest that I was caught off-guard and I deeply regret my actions." Even talk of doing that left a bitter taste in her mouth. The door opened and Blake stepped into the room, looking on edge. "I can grovel. I'm a decent groveler." Hopefully the significance of her pause before the word 'groveler' was lost on the President and his Chief of Staff. (_Please don't do this. Please stop. No, no, no._) She had grovelled to this man enough. And she hadn't been good enough.

Elizabeth was snapped out of her reverie by her assistant clearing his throat. "Ma'am. President Andrada wants us to leave."

"Yeah I know, we're working to resolve that right now."

"No, no. Us. You and me. He sent the military police to kick us out of the Philippines, right now." Suddenly Blake's harried appearance made sense, as she took in the armed men behind him, fully decked out in combat gear.

"Well okay then," she said, taken aback, while turning back to face the monitor. "I guess I'll see you in seventeen hours. Mr President, Russell."

"Take care, Bess," the President's voice was soft and coloured with concern. Elizabeth nodded, and the screen went black.

To call this a blessing in disguise would be wrong; there was too much at stake and this was a serious setback. The additional work that this would create for her would be immense, and she could only be glad that it was not her responsibility to inform the Secretary of Defence that all military presence would soon be forcibly removed from Filipino soil. However, Elizabeth was selfishly glad that she would not have to see Andrada. Not to grovel. He may have stripped her of her dignity, but she could keep her pride. And soon, she would be home with Henry, enveloped by his arms, which could only be the safest place in the world. _He_ couldn't touch her there.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I'm back! As I said, I am determined to finish this story, but I need to be in the right frame of mind to write this kind of thing, so I don't know how frequently I'm going to be able to upload. Hopefully the wait's a little shorter next time though! Thank you so much everyone for the lovely reviews and response to the first chapter. I did not expect that, and I really appreciate it.

So much thanks goes to lilacmermaid33 for beta reading this chapter, I cannot overstate how valuable that was.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Elizabeth was exhausted. As soon as she had taken her seat on the plane, all the aches and pains of international travel, which had been temporarily suspended while she had been wired, and later numb, from her encounter with the Filipino president, made themselves known to her. She gazed wistfully over at Blake, who was sleeping peacefully nearby. What she wouldn't give to taste that sweet release of unconsciousness right now. While her body seemed ready to collapse from the moment she had sat, her mind was restless.

When they were being herded to their plane by the military police, she had felt her skin crawl every time one of the men stood too close to her. She was hyperaware of everyone else's positions relative to hers. Outwardly, Elizabeth was composed. She did not startle, and applied a conscious effort to maintaining an easy rhythm to her steps. However her front, though a good one, could not fool herself.

Inside, Elizabeth was a churning mess. Thoughts swirled through her head at a frantic pace, just to fall down on themselves when others cropped up. Elizabeth knew that, in a technical sense, what had happened to her was rape. There had been penetration of her genitalia by another person without her consent. That was, quite literally, the textbook definition of rape. However, she didn't feel raped. This seemed so small and inconsequential compared to what real victims go through. He did not undress her, or himself. His penis had remained decidedly within his pants. She had been fortunate enough to stop it before it got too far.

It got far enough though. She felt so small, and yet at the same time, like she needed to make herself smaller. Compress all of her body together until he couldn't touch her anymore. Or she escaped his notice. Whichever happened first, she wasn't going to be choosy about it. She just needed things to not have unfolded the way they did.

Elizabeth sighed. Dwelling on what had happened wasn't going to do anything to help the situation. Glancing over at Blake to ensure he was still asleep, she rose and walked over to the bathroom, to pile another layer of concealer over the hickey on her neck.

* * *

When she arrived home, Elizabeth was wearing a thick, heavy coat. The mark on her neck was well covered by concealer, but bruises had begun to make themselves visible on her wrists where he had held her down with his forearm. The sleeves of her coat hid the evidence of what had occurred from sight.

As she stepped through the door, Henry walked over to meet her. Elizabeth gratefully sank into his embrace.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, you should have seen the other guy." Henry had received the same story as the President and Russell. He knew only that Andrada had groped her. When Elizabeth called Henry from the plane, she had justified to herself that this wasn't something she could tell him over the phone. Now that he was in front of her, though, it seemed like the words were stuck in her throat. Saying them out loud seemed somehow impossible.

"I did. Andrada's been posting all these photos of himself with his nose splint, and his black eyes."

Elizabeth's heart sank, though she was careful not to react. "Really? I thought he'd be embarrassed and lay low," she replied. Elizabeth had hoped for that so badly. Of all things, this was one story that she never wanted to see hit the news cycle, let alone before she had the chance to speak to Henry about it. As they walked into the next room, Henry handed her a bowl of fruit and ice cream. God she loved that man.

"No no. He's very proud of the fact that he got his nose broken at the gym. By his sparring partner. A guy named Cobra." Henry was almost smiling; she could see he was proud of her for defending herself. Too little too late, though.

Elizabeth caught herself as that thought entered her head. Why was she trying to upset herself about this? If that was the story Andrada wanted to go with, she should be relieved. This was perfect – almost. "You're going to start calling me Cobra now, aren't you?" _Please don't_.

Henry's face lost its traces of humour. "As soon as it's funny." _It won't be_.

Elizabeth took another bite of ice cream, and tossed her hair back, mentally shaking herself off. "That cover story works for me." Time to stop being emotional, time to be practical. "He doesn't want to admit he got beat up by a girl, I'm not excited for a headline that says I clobbered a world leader instead of saving a major regional agreement."

"Is there any point in even asking what the guy was thinking?" Henry's voice finally betrayed that he was pissed off, if only slightly. He must have been holding back for her sake. While she appreciated the gesture, it likely wouldn't have mattered. The numbness from the plane had yet to dissipate.

"When he tried to grope me, or when he ordered the US military out of the Philippines?" She stared at her ice cream when she mentioned what Andrada did to her, looking up at Henry only at the end of her sentence. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the face. Hopefully Henry didn't read into that.

"He is a psycho." Henry looked as defeated as she felt.

"What about you, did you hear anything from the dead drop?" She couldn't keep talking about this.

He shook his head. "I just wish we had more time."

"Well, I'm familiar with that feeling." She looked up at him, "But right now, I have to shower and get back into the fight, so…" She stood and left the room, leaving Henry looking sadly after her.

* * *

After she stripped off to get in the shower, Elizabeth inspected her body. It was a strange sensation; as her eyes travelled across the familiar skin, it didn't seem like hers anymore. It was the same as it always had been, but different somehow, brand new.

The bruises on her wrists had developed a bluish hue. There was also bruising that had bloomed on her legs, where he had put the weight of his body onto them with his knees to hold her down. Thankfully, her breasts bore no evidence of the assault his hand made against them.

Elizabeth knew she should check inside of her. Andrada had scratched her and she had felt it twinge on a few occasions since her adrenaline high wore out. However, she could not bring herself to touch herself there, however clinically. That could wait until tomorrow.

When she stepped into the shower, and felt the water cascading over her face and down her back, she felt like she should be sobbing, crying for what had been taken from her. But she was comfortably numb. She should be heading back into the office to try to untangle this mess that she had inadvertently gotten them all into, but right at that moment, she just didn't care. That could wait until tomorrow too.

* * *

Henry was still downstairs when Elizabeth got out of the shower. She used the opportunity to dress in long sleep pants and a sweatshirt to hide the bruising on her wrists and legs. There was nothing much that could be done about her neck while she slept, so she applied another layer of concealer and hoped it would last until morning.

She was already bundled up in the blankets in bed when Henry joined her. He put his arm around her and she nestled into him, contemplating the absolute safety she felt in his embrace, and that it didn't feel quite as absolute as it had the week prior. His touch caused cognitive dissonance, where she felt both more and less secure at the same time with his body wrapped around her.

Elizabeth barely slept. She managed about half an hour somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00am, but she slept fitfully and her body seemed to be fighting against it. Elizabeth did not remember what happened in her dream, but she woke with an overwhelming sense of foreboding and unease. Nothing was right, and she wasn't safe. She and Henry had shifted during the night, and he now lay slightly away from her. Elizabeth wanted to reach over and pull Henry's arms around her, but she wasn't sure that that would help. She felt disconnected from her body, like she could take it off, hang it up in her closet, and put on a new one. God she wished she could do that; this body just _wasn't hers_ anymore, in ways that were impossible to explain.

Elizabeth looked briefly over at Henry, before her gaze shifted back to the ceiling. They were mere inches apart, but there may as well be oceans separating them for how connected she felt to her husband right now. Or to anyone else, for that matter. Holding this information within her about Andrada and what had happened and the nothingness she felt, Elizabeth seemed to be looking from the outside in, as if she was no more than an observer to her own skin. Her body was one entity, and herself, her being, was another entirely, sequestered away from life around her.

Contemplating Henry's warm embrace worried her. If Elizabeth was separate from her body, then would Henry holding her have the same effect? Physical comfort seemed superficial. Who could say if it would perforate through this alien body that housed her, to her person that was only in theory inside of it. It seemed like too much of a gamble to take, to test whether she could glean any benefit from Henry's arms tonight. Right now, she could still live under the pretence that they were the walls that could protect her from all harm, be that external or internal. If that was no longer the case, she did not need to know yet. She could weather this night alone.

Upon reflection, Elizabeth thought, it was probably for the best that she had been awake through most of the night. She hated to think what would have happened if she had slept longer. Would she have cried? Screamed? Become violent, and tried to push away some threat that only existed in her mind? If any of that happened, Henry would worry, and then he would ask questions, and Elizabeth wasn't ready for that. She knew she needed to tell him what had happened; she just needed time.

Elizabeth glanced at the alarm clock next to her bed. 5:46am. Deciding that it was reasonable enough that she should be getting up now, Elizabeth rolled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. Her body felt heavy, and every step seemed to use up more energy than it should. While she showered, Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to sink down to the tiled floor and sit while she washed herself. Elizabeth would not allow herself that though. She couldn't. Feeling sorry for herself was for yesterday; today was for moving forward. Today would be a normal day.

She hurried through the rest of her shower, scrubbing herself hard and with little care, trying to avoid looking at the skin that was no longer hers. When she finished her shower and moved to the sink to brush her teeth, Elizabeth could hear Henry moving around in the bedroom outside.

Reaching for the doorknob, she caught sight of the bruises on her wrists, and stopped dead. They were still mostly blue and purple, though some parts had faded down to a sickly green colour. Panicking, Elizabeth removed the towel that was wrapped around her and looked down at her legs. Purples, blues and some strands of red danced together on the inside of her thighs, vivid and appearing painful to touch. She didn't know how she had missed it when she washed herself. She hadn't been gentle. Elizabeth turned to the mirror, and in her harried reflection, a mark still sat upon her neck. _Shit._

Henry couldn't see this. She wasn't ready. But she hadn't brought any clothes in with her, she hadn't thought to because she always dressed in the bedroom. Elizabeth briefly entertained the idea of waiting Henry out, and only exiting their en suite bathroom when he was no longer on the other side of the door, but quickly dismissed the thought. That would still cause him to worry, simply for a different reason. And she did not know how long he would be. Elizabeth took a deep breath and steeled herself, before opening the door and stepping back into the bedroom.

"Hey babe." Henry kissed her good morning as she walked passed him towards the closet. He was standing on the wrong side of her to see the hickey. So far so good.

"Elizabeth," he said softly. His hand reached out to gently touch her wrists. _Crap_. "What happened, are you okay?" He pulled her around to face him, delicately as if she might break, and Elizabeth saw his eyes go to the mark on her neck. When she did not respond, Henry added, "I thought you just said Andrada groped you, did he do this?"

At this, Elizabeth turned away. "I don't want to talk about it, Henry." She opened the closet, and began rummaging through for something to wear. Something normal. As much as her hands longed to reach for long pants and a turtleneck, which would leave only her hands and faced visible, she was determined not to. She wanted that because she felt exposed. But, more than that, she did not want to let _him_ influence her life or her choices any more than he already had, even if those choices were as inconsequential as the clothes she was wearing for the day.

"Look at your wrists. This seems like something you'll need to talk about." Henry sighed as Elizabeth remained resolutely silent. "At least tell me there are no more bruises."

Elizabeth pulled out a dress and some underwear, and threw them onto the bed. As she dropped the towel from around her, she looked pointedly anywhere but at Henry. She heard him gasp, and discomfort gnawed at her insides. He let her dress before he tried to talk again, and she was grateful for it.

"Elizabeth, hey," his tone was gentle. Elizabeth looked him Henry in the face for the first time since he saw the mark upon her neck. His eyes were pleading, his whole face was open and raw. He hovered close to her, but made no moves to hold her, to touch. Of course not, though. Why would he want to touch her now? "Talk to me."

"Henry, unless you want this," she gestured to her neck, "on the front page of some magazine, I've got to finish getting ready and then head in to the office. After everything that's happened, there's going to be a lot of work to do." Her voice was resigned and weary.

"Babe, please."

"Henry…"

"Please."

Elizabeth sighed. He sounded pained and hurt, and knew that now that he had seen what her body looked like, he wouldn't let her live in some fantasy world where her skin was clean and Andrada had never touched her. It would lie between them until she had told him what happened, or at least as much as she was willing to say. "Fine. We'll talk tonight, though. I really do have to go, as soon as I put my face on." She wrinkled her nose. Her eyes felt dried out after spending most of the night awake, and putting on mascara was not an enticing thought. As she walked back towards the bathroom to apply her makeup, Elizabeth turned back to look at Henry. "I'm fine, Henry. You don't need to worry about me."

She wished she believed it.


End file.
